To spend her life in Mrs. Rice’s kitchen?” She shrugged her shoulders. “What you bring yo’ suit-case home fo’?” “I’m quitting the job Saturday,” she said. “I’ve told them already.” “Quitting!” her mother exclaimed. “What fo’? Lawd, if it ain’t one thing, it’s another!” “What for?” Harriett retorted angrily. “There’s plenty what for! All that work for five dollars a week with what little tips those pikers give you. And white men insulting you besides, asking you to sleep with ’em. Look at my finger-nails, all broke from scrubbing that dining-room floor.” She thrust out her dark slim hands.
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